Kitchen for Disease Control

I've got my own CDC. At any given moment someone in my house has something. This is by far the worst our family has seen. And if we don't die from the flu, it will be lysol poisoning that will do us in.

This here is the preventative side of the counter. And the 'if you are sick, take this' area. You can hardly see the 20 gallon container of hand sanitizer from Costco. But never fear - oh, yes. It's there.

And here is the 'clean up' area. Notice both have industrial size cans of lysol. And the tissue box is just conviently located here as well.

I CAN'T wait to be getting everyone better. Is your house full of junk as well? If so, my condolences. I'm very tired of it, and I'm sure you are too.

Now for more important topics. Have you met Ronald Weasly yet? Harry got out the door before I got a photo on here. I'll have to get them together later.

Kitchen Joy

On my kitchen counter today:

Roasted pumpkin seeds

Half eaten Barbie Birthday Cake, her skirt - that is

Delicious apple crisp delivered lovingly from a friend

A dirty, "You are Special" plate

Breakfast in Bed pancake leftovers from Ruby's birthday breakfast

Lots of pink things, presents of Roo's

Lingering pumpkin guts from last nights carvings

and outside...

I can hear the chickens clucking while snow is fluttering to the ground, with a

background of orange, yellow and red fall leaves.

Mmmm. Fall at our house is defiantly my favorite.

Not So Bungee Jumping

I recently saw a show where a man was going bungee jumping. It reminded me of a time long ago…

Remember those six months at Ricks? (which by the way was the name of a topless bar in Seattle, so when you told people you were “going to Ricks” – you got some laughs) Anywho…So, as I was saying. Remember those dateless, boyless, full of whine days I told you about? Well, I have a good story for you.

It was homecoming and my good friend Holly and I had – shocker – no dates. So we loaded in to my 1986 gray Mazda 626 (same car that carried the fire hose) and went out on the town, to see what we could see. Ever been to Rexburg? Let’s just say, it was a pretty short trip. But to our happy surprise, there happened to be a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping crane in the grocery store parking lot. We drove by and thought, hmm? Why not?

We didn’t have any thing better to do.

As we get out of the car, we noticed there were only girls in line for this blessed event. Ha. Homecoming at Ricks. Should I have guessed anything else? (remember the 3 to 1 ratio) So we get in line, pay our thirty dollars and watch the girls ahead of us go. Oh, they were the biggest wimps. I mean, whine, “ohhhh, I can’t jump” or “I’m sooo scared!” Blah. Blah. Blah.

Well, Holly is about as quiet and nothing, much like myself. So we had to razz the little miss prisses. “Jump you wimp!!!” we yelled. “Come on you sissy – hurry up!” And so on. Let’s just say, not my finest moment. We were ruthless. A full fledge nightmare of a peanut gallery.

As our turn arrives, I tell Holly I’ll go first. I get in the basket of the crane, and up we go. Remember, this is a ‘traveling’ bungee jumping thing. It’s pitch dark, the wind in HOWLING – as it only can in the artic of eastern Idaho. Suddenly I start thinking. Something I hadn’t done prior to this point in the evening. I’m thinking things like; could they even see very well when the hooked the harness up? I mean it is ten o clock at night in a parking lot. And, how safe could jumping off a crane onto asphalt really be? And, holy CRAP! What am I thinking??!!!

And now Holly is heckling me! “Hurry up, you chicken!” Uhhhh. Ummm. Uhhhhh. I really don’t want to do this. I have no shame. “Can you jump with me,” I say to the guy. “I want to go down.” I mutter. “If you go down you lose your thirty bucks – just jump” He says. Aaaaah. Mmmm. (up to this point every single girl has jumped – no one backed out. Until me.) Finally the guy looks me right in the eyes, I can still see his bright blue eyes today, “Just *#*##blankin’ jump!” He yells as me.

That’s it! NO one talks to me like that!!!! (hurumph!!!) “Take me down, NOW!!” And down we went to a hysteric Holly you was laughing her pants off. And up she went and walked off the edge like she was jumping in a pool. Laughing and screaming the whole time.

Funny thing is - I’ve never regretted it. I like to think it was one of my wiser moments in my life. After weighing all the odds, I like to think a more intelligent person would have chosen what I did.

Okay. And a total chicken.

Picture from www.london-se1.co.uk/news/view/3129

Still Here

Well. I didn't run away. But I wanted to.

Life seems to be getting the best of me lately.

On what seemed like a better note, Peter and I needed to head to Houston this past weekend. Long story. But thanks to many families pitching it, mainly the parents and Minky's fam - off we went.

I knew we'd have a little time to visit our old house, see the hospital where Big Sam was born, and look around a bit. But I also knew we'd have a little bit of time to lay by the pool, read a book and eat candy bars. So, I of course, packed suit, book, and candy - ready to go.

I felt lousy all day Sunday, but just thought that travelling all day made me feel sick. Then at dinner, our 88 dollar dinner, I had to excuse myself - twice -to go throw up.

And that was just the beginning.

I spent the next 30 hours wishing I was dead. Nothing like going on a trip, to spend the entire time totally sick. I felt very lucky that the company we were with was happy to keep us another night, and the rental car, and change the flight. Oh so very nice. I just don't think there is any way I could have made it home the day we were supposed to.

Ever felt like you've been run over by a truck?

At least I didn't have to be "mom" while wising for death. That made it a little better. I did come home to what I was sure was the Swine Flu. But, I guess when they're better two hours later - it's not. Silly me.

And that's whats in the news around here.

Running Away

I'm running away today.

No. Really I am.

Aren't weekends supposed to be nice? How come I was busy all weekend, but nothing to show for it? Okay, 68 quarts of apple pie filling done over the last week - finished this weekend. (these are neighbor Christmas gifts this year, BTW. I mean, I like apple pie/crisp, but really...) Does a REALLY messy house count as "something to show?"

Then Sunday brought me running out of Sacrament Meeting with Big Sam as he was trying not to throw up. Nothing like seeing your nine year old hug a gross 'public' toilet. He made it until after church to fully throw up. Good work! I taught Relief Society, cried through the whole thing. I hate crying teachers - sorry everyone. (no one reads this that comes to RS anyway)

So an afternoon of barfs, imputing 9,835 recipes (not really, but maybe 30), then going to bed with someone crying and waking up to someone crying, left me to mutter - first thing this moring -

"I'm running away today."

And I should have, right then. Because the two day old dishes in the sink are enough to make me cry. (although I did them already) The laundry pile, one like I've never seen before, is ENORMOUS! Chuggers has already colored all over the kitchen wall with orange and purple crayons. Ruby has whined and cried about not wanting to wear socks, Chubby is hitting her, she can't get her shoes on, and she doesn't want to wear her sweater to preschool. I was terribly impatient with poor Si today, and he didn't deserve it at all. And I have a sick nine year old laying in his bed.

The list goes on. But I'll quit whining. Boo hoo for me. I know. And it's only 9:39 am. Boy oh boy, this is going to be a great day. So if you see me running down the street, not looking over my shoulder. Don't stop me. I'm running away. Hopefully, I'll get to a sunny beach somewhere....

Cookin' Game On!

Our ward has decided to put together a cookbook. At who's suggestion? Yep. Mine. And who has to do all the work? Yep. Yours truly. And while I don't really mind, I have come into a bit of trouble. (but not for long!)

You see, imputing my recipes, and many others, I find myself wanting EVERYTHING!!! I mean, it's a constant -ohhhh, mmmmm, I love that, that sounds SOOO good, I have to try that, I haven't made that in forever, ooooooh - party.

But let me remind you of the broken oven. It's broken. There, you've been reminded.

BUT THAT WAS THEN!!!

Turns out it wasn't my three year old, flat cook top, stainless steel, oven after all. (good thing, 'cause I was ready to punch Amana in the nose!) Anywho, turns out it was just my fantastic 1974 wiring of the house. Phew! No big deal. When the electrician tells you, "this is how house fires start" should you worry? Nah. (it was shorted out, burned breaker)

On with the story! Well, so for a little more than 24 hours I have had my dear loved one back. No more electric fry pans for me! No siree! And crock pot, if I don't see you again for a very long time - it'll still be too soon. My good ol' oven and stove top are back in business.

What to make first?......Bread! Of course. White, deliciously hot and buttery, homemade bread. Next? Soft, perfectly moist sugar cookies. And a chocolate cake. German Chocolate with gooey, melt in your mouth nutty goodness of a topping. And while I didn't quite have the time for the pumpkin rolls tonight - they're on the list for tomorrow! Yep. You know the ones. Rolled up pumpkin cake filled with delectable cream cheese icing. Oh, help me. Mmmm.

What's next! Mmm. I'll find something. Of course.

And in other news. My adorably short babysitter sat tonight, and woah! I need a maid. Poor thing had to put Chubbers to bed, walking through the Swine Den, to get there. (He sleeps in our "walk in closet." AKA, a bedroom turned into a closet, turned into a bedroom. ) Why is it that the majority of my house can be clean, but my room looks like a bomb went off? Why!!??

And did you see Nie today? She's so cute. Isn't she? Looks so good. So proud of her. (yes, I like to talk like we know each other. Well... if the shoe fits. Okay, so she did leave me a comment once. Hate to brag....

Haha, just kidding. But she did do a nice job. Didn't she?

So there you have it. Loved all the great comments on my football jerk post. Glad to know I'm not alone in being bugged beyond belief by ding dongs.

Not a Sports Fan

Warning: This post is kind of rude. Sorry. Sometimes, one just needs to vent!

Dear Man on Other Team at Sam's Football Game,

I see you each week, waiting, "gearing up." You are the reason I don't like football or the dad's of football players. I know I am rude and judgemental, this is nothing new. But I can see that you are too.

The way you shave your nine year olds head into a Mohawk. What are you trying to say? And your Tramp Stamp coming out of your pants. (they're tacky enough on women, but men? really? woof.) The way you don't listen to your son, because you're too busy bossing and yelling at him. Your 'tough guy', 'better look out', attitude. Puh-leeese. It's a game. It's FLAG football, and they're NINE! You are raising another generation of JERKS!

You get to the game an hour early so you can "watch the competition." "Watch that guy there. You'll be playing them in a week!" , you say. Again, HELP ME! They are nine! You 'warm up'. Jump up and down, roll your neck, spin your arms. Hi, you're not playing - and you're not one of the coaches. (thank heavens!)

But I think that disturbs me the most is what you like to say to your son, in your fake east coast accent. "We're gonna win! We're winners! Right?! And what do winners do? (I'm thinking to myself here, work hard? Play hard? But no...) That's right! Any-thing they want!" Oh, good heavens. This is the mentality I see on the news about football players and them going to jail! They do, in fact, do anything they want. Including break the law! For crying out loud! Mister! How about, have fun? Do your best? It's better to play fair than to win? Obviously you never learned this.

Oh well. Maybe it's this attitude of yours that allows you to be a Seven Eleven manager. (I'm not making that up, I heard him say it) Not trying to judge here, heaven knows I have my own troubles. But, there could be more in life for you.

At any rate. I think you're a bit of a jerk. I cringe when I see you and even more so when you open your mouth. Your poor son. Never had a chance, did he?

Sincerely,

The Judgemental, White Bread, Bubble Living Lady from the Game

Only Date at Ricks College

The end of my Freshman year in college brought many changes. The boy I was crazy about was in the MTC, and my best friend in Ellensburg was busy with her life elsewhere. How could I go back to Central without them? What's a girl to do?

Well, what any girl would do, naturally. Move to Idaho.

I went to Ricks College for six months. Summer and Fall of my Sophomore year. I moved in with five other girls, ALL from Idaho. Luckily, my dear friend Anna lived right across the street. I spent most of my days pining away for the one I loved. Oh, I was a mad woman. Checking the mail ten times a day. Swooning over letters. Why would I even look at a member of the other species - heaven forbid! I was a goner. A wreck. And let me just make a formal apology to all roommates Summer and Fall, right here and now. If I were you, I would have punched me.

So my life consisted of letters from said boy - to and from. Missing said boy, crying, whining, and being disgusted by all others and their situations. None were as important as mine. (woof, really - someone put me out of my misery.) My life also consisted of Art Classes, which I LOVED at Ricks. Good times with my Fall roommates. (I can't even tell you the names of the Summer batch. Something like, 'big hair', 'owns too many floral prints', and 'I'm dying to get married at 18'. -I know, I'm mean) I also spent my days at The Ard's, learning my much needed life's lessons. And the rest of the time I spent trying to stay warm. Rexburg is COLD.

So in all of the boy-wahh-ness, I never even talked to another boy. And why would I? The ratio at that time, of girls to boys, was like 3 to 1. And when you factor in That One Girl, the one everyone wants to date, it's more like 30 to 1. So, I was better off waiting patiently (tip my halo here) for my dearest. (never mind the fact that I already sent one missionary off prior to this one, and would shortly send another off...okay, but I really did like this one best. Until Peter, of course. Who, luckily, I met on the coming home side of his mission, not the leaving.) Okay, where was I? Oh, yes. No boys. Right. Which brings me to the one and only date I had at Ricks College.

Now, I'm a nice girl. I've never said no to a first date. A second maybe, but not a first. So of all the boys I interacted with, which aren't a ton in the Art dept. of an LDS school, I was asked out by a very odd boy. I don't even know his name. But I'll give you the run down.

He was a return Missionary from a French mission. He was at least four inches shorter and 50 lbs lighter than me. He wore thick glasses, a trench coat and had a Star Trek pin on his lapel. He carried, FOR REAL, his Jurassic Park I.D. badge, which "gave him the right to feed the animals." (Oh, heaven help me NOW!) He picked me up, on foot, wearing the trench coat and 'fingerless' gloves.

Let's just say this, luckily - I didn't know anyone at that dance. He only wanted to dance slow dances, didn't talk, and mostly just stood around. At the end of the dance, he quickly walked me home and that was it. I'm not sure I ever even talked to him again. Not out of meanness, just out of awkwardness. And let me clarify, it really was nice of him to ask me out. No one else did, that's for sure. And you gotta hand it too him, it's pretty gutsy to ask out a girl A LOT taller (and bigger) than you. Right?

So, there you are. I thought you all might enjoy a little chuckle from the only date I ever had a Ricks College. Don't worry, I was too busy reading, writing, and dedicating songs to missionaries to really care. (really, someone - hit me!)